


The Saint of Burning Man

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Burning Man, F/F, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Episode 7, the dialogue casually blows by the fact that Cat Grant has been to Burning Man.  I thought we ought to see a little more about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Saint of Burning Man

The first time Cat went to Burning Man, she’d gone alone.  It had been a rough month.  She needed to blow off steam, but more than that, it was enticing to think about spending time someplace where the likelihood of anyone having any idea who she was would be slim to none.  A bunch of trust fund hippies tripping their faces off in the middle of the desert weren’t very likely to have the first clue who Cat Grant, Queen of All Media was.  Particularly when she was dressed down and dirtied up.

Probably some of them would have had something to say about the fact that she’d taken her private jet to get there.  But she knew it would never come to any of them learning that.  At Burning Man, she was just Cat from National City, coming to get high and watch some bands and maybe fool around a little with that cute, young blonde girl she’d laid eyes on almost immediately after arriving.  Cat liked cute, young blonde girls.

And she managed to tick off pretty much all the items on her agenda; she smoked some pretty good weed, for the first time in a while, actually.  Last time had been with Snoop Dogg, out in back of the Radisson Hotel in midtown Manhattan after the launch of old Wellesley buddy Miranda’s new fashion magazine.  That had been nearly a year before.  She watched some band who reminded her of The Strokes, and then realized somewhere in the middle of the third song that it actually was The Strokes, and then after some peculiar country-ish singer named Bobby Bare who was a bit more interesting.  But the main stage was a sausage fest, so she’d gotten bored and went looking for that girl she’d spotted.  It had been a while since Cat had been on a good hunt, and she’d almost forgotten how much fun it was.

And yes, she had to follow the girl into some mud puddles to frolick in them, and she had to smoke some more pot (tragedy of tragedies), but the fact was, even covered in mud and high off her ass, Cat Grant had the kind of weapons-grade charisma that got her laid when she felt like deploying it in the right way.  By the time she was tucking a wildflower behind that girl’s ear, the girl was tucking her her lower lip between her teeth, and Cat knew she was in the door.

She didn’t stay the entire week.  She got bored after two days, honestly.  She knew there was something missing from it, but she couldn’t say what.  

Or maybe she was just jaundiced to the whole thing on account of the burns on her wrists from trying to learn to juggle firesticks.

  
  


**

  
  


The second time Cat went to Burning Man, she brought Kara with her.  They still took the private jet.  She hadn’t thought she’d go again, but she really wanted to expose Kara to some more experiences than she’d managed to get during her teen years in Minnesota and her apparently shamefully well-behaved college years.  Kara had suggested she could just fly them there without the assistance of the jet, but Cat would have none of it.  “Do you have any idea what that kind of flight is going to do to my hair?  I’m sure I’ll be a mess by the end of Burning Man, but I’d really like to show up in one piece.”

It was hard to say whether Cat or Kara had more fun.  Cat had seen it all before, but watching Kara experience it for the first time made it all new again.  And she had to admit, Kara looked unbearably adorable covered in mud, wearing a daisy crown.

“The awesome thing about Burning Man,” a very high person drawled them, gazing through them with a vacant smile, “is you can totally be yourself here and it’s allll good.”

It had started small, that whole “be yourself” thing, with Cat and Kara walking around holding hands, or with their arms around each other, or kissing each other without regard for who might be watching.  

It escalated when Kara playfully took a young man by the arms and levitated him about three inches off of the ground.  Cat gave her a stern look as the shirtless, shaven-headed hippie wandered away babbling about having had a religious experience.  “What?” Kara had demanded in response to Cat’s displeased glare.  “He’s high on … what?”

“Mushrooms?” Cat guessed.  “Who knows?”

“Right,” Kara had answered.  “Psychedelics.  I could start flying around and these people would all just think it was part of their trip.”

“YOU WILL NOT START FLYING AROUND!” Cat hissed urgently at her.

Kara laughed.  “Of course not.  But I could.”

Kara did, however, find herself strolling with Cat through the crowds in the heat of desert midday, gently using her freezing breath to chill people’s lukewarm drinks.  When Cat grew tired, Kara picked her up and easily carried her back to the cool shade of their tent, where they drank cold water, smoked pot, and quietly made love until it was time to go watch Flavor Flav on the main stage.  

Kara became known among some circles as the Saint of Burning Man, and sometimes tripping strangers would come up to her over the next couple of days and ask her to chill their drinks, levitate them, or light their joints with her laser eyes.  And Cat from National City managed to check off the three important items on her list again:  get high, see some music, and fool around with that cute little blonde girl.   
  



End file.
